Susurrations
by Unworthy
Summary: Set during 97 Seconds. Wilson's reaction to House's condition. Slight Wouse. UPDATE
1. Chapter 1

Susurrations

It was ten o'clock when Cuddy paged me. I rushed to her office, wondering what sort of shit Greg was knee-deep in this time. The man was a walking lawsuit, and I didn't want to miss another appointment with a dying patient watching him not testify.

"House tried to kill himself." Were the 'warm' words that greeted me as I turned towards the run-down woman. The bags under her eyes were screaming out, and it _looked_ as though she had recently cried. As for me, I was utterly speechless. Some disconnected words dribbled off my tongue into air so think with tension, you could slice it with a knife.

"Did he...Is he...Vicodin?"

"He stuck a knife into an electrical socket. He still hasn't regained consciousness yet..." Superfluous, but who could blame her? One of the undoubtedly best doctors in the hemisphere just tried to commit suicide in her hospital. The woman can be expected to be redundant.

"Alright." I turned to leave, my hand on the doorknob. But I had forgotten... "Thanks, Lisa."

_Jimmy, Jimmy, Jimmy...Always courteous, even in the worst situations._

After scrambling madly around the ICU, I found Greg's room. Quietly sliding open the door, I sat down in the vacant chair next to him, the bottom of my eyes stinging. I wondered if any nurses were coming to check on him... I scootched my chair closer to him, wrapping my fingers gently around his limp ones, my thumb running across his knuckles.

"Why'd you do it, Greg?" Were my susurrations, so low as to be nearly inaudible. I looked around timidly before grasping his uninjured hand tightly, as an awkward person would comfort a crying woman.

"Alright, I know that you think that unconscious people can't hear stuff, but I'm a bit more sentimental than you, so if you _can't_ hear me, at least _one_ of us will feel better. I care about you, a lot." Gulp.

"In-In fact, I think I'd have to say that I love you." _What the Hell, Jimmy?_

"Platonically, of course, Greg_." _A nervous laugh escaped my lips. "I mean, we've been through so much together...your leg, my divorces, you being a complete jerk-off...But I want you to know, I'll always be here." A tepid tear trickled down my cheek, leaving a cold line. I wiped it away.

"Just pull through this, and I'll always be here."

"But, I must ask, Greg, what the _fuck_ were you thinking? You're a doctor, for Christ's sake!" I released his hand roughly and stood up, my hands on my hips, glowering at the slumbering form.

_You can't deal with this right now. Get out._

I ran my fingers through my hair before rushing out of the room. Maybe some clinic hours could do me good...


	2. Chapter 2

I stared, dumbfounded at the patient who sat in front of me.

"So, Dr.Wilson sir, is it serious?"

"You have a nosebleed."

"But it hurts."

"Getting hit in the face does."

"Can't you prescribe me something?"

"No." With that, I stood and left. God, were people always this vacuous? Usually clinic hours made me happy to be a doctor in a place where people could come for free care, but today every single one of my patients was a obtuse fool.

_Don't say that Jimmy, it's not nice...You should never make fun of those less fortunate...What? Less fortunate my ass...Not having a cerebrum isn't a disability, it's an inconvenience to those around them...Stop it, Jimmy, you're just projecting..._

I let loose a loud groan.

"Quit it, Jimmy..." I murmured quietly, cradling my head in my hands. The nurse next to me edged away.

"Sorry, Nurse...Ratchet." I ignored her evil (unibrowed) eye and left the clinic. I couldn't concentrate, I needed to see him. To paraphrase a lame pick-up line, his leg must be throbbing from...limping...through my mind all day. What a quandary Greg'd gotten himself into. All I could ask myself was 'Why?'...Was I not always there for him, always ready to talk, to provide guidance?

The man was strong coffee. At very first, you're shocked by the bitterness. Then, you _need_ him to get through the mornings, the late nights, the clinic duty.

Sitting back down by the bedside of my little stoned conundrum, I again took his hand, grasping it desperately.

"Greg?" I breathed. His eyelids twitched, and I leaned forward expectantly, but no other motion came from him. A single, low sigh of exasperation escaped my lips.

"Greg, I'm sorry I got angry earlier, but my position still stands. I've _always _been here for you, couldn't you have just talked instead of trying to commit suicide? If you go through with this, I swear, I won't ever forgive you." I said, trying to lighten the mood by laughing a bit. As I anxiously giggled, tears began to roll down my face. My laughs turned to sobs, and softly I rested my head on his chest, sniveling into the flimsy hospital blanket.

Babbled vowel sounds came out of my mouth, vaguely resembling the words: "Why'd you do it?" Why the hell would you do this to me?"

_Pull yourself together. You can't do this. Not now._

I straightened up, rubbing the water from my face, glancing ashamedly at the tear stains on the blanket. Why did I just fall apart like that? I should be more composed. Perhaps, it was because the actual thought of really losing Greg hadn't ever truly crossed my mind. The thought is scary, to be honest. For all these years I've known him, put up with him, loved him, and for him to be gone due to something I may have so easily prevented...

_Not Now. Don't think that. He'll be fine._

I leaned in close to him, feeling his sour breath on my cheek as my lips neared his ear.

"I;m gonna get you out of this, Greg. Trust me. You'll pull through."


	3. Chapter 3

_Alright, Jimmy, you're doing this. Just push the doors open and sit down. Not that hard._

_Yes, it is hard. The physical aspect is easy, but what about what comes after the sitting?_

_You're Jewish, dumbass. Chapels do nothing for you._

_It's a house of God. I really don't want to do this..._

_You need to do this._

Sighing morosely for the thousandth time today, I swung open the doors and walked into the empty chapel. Sitting down on the back pew, I bent my head.

_Are you there God? It's me, Jimmy._

_Oh, please._

_But seriously, God. I know it seems like I only pray when I'm asking for miracles, but, if you can help me just this one last time, I'll start going to church. Or praying for other people, something. Please. You see, I love him, and I want him to live. I know he's made mistakes and denounced your existence and stuff, but I really love him._

_Way to tell God that you're gay._

_AM NOT!_

_..._

_..._

_..._

_Am I?_

_You shouldn't be discussing this in what is essentially a church, Jimmy. Back to prayer._

_Oh, God, please save him._

"Amen." I muttered. I needed out. Now. Even as a kid I could never stand church. The stained glass windows creeped me out. And the gaudy crucifix on the wall was a little...disturbing.

_God can hear you, you know that?_

_Don't be a dumbass, God can ALWAYS hear you._

"ARRRGH!" I screamed in the vacant room, the shame hitting my heart before the echoes hit my eardrums. Prayer wasn't working, medicine wasn't working, what the fuck else was there?!

And then, my silhouette struck the crucifix on the wall as the chapel door opened. I turned to see Lisa Cuddy standing there, an expression of utter bewilderment on her painted face.

"Jimmy, are you alright?"

_Bitch, please._

"I'm fine. It's been a rough day, alright?"

"It's about House..."

_Oh, God no...He couldn't have...no...I prayed...Not hard enough, I guess..._

"What about House?" My already puffy eyes welled once more.

"He's awake." And the tears came, not from sadness, but from joy. Without another word, I stood and brushed past Cuddy on my way out. Passing her, a big whiff of perfume berated my nostrils. Ew.


	4. Chapter 4

I burst forth into the room, panting from running up the stairs and looked at Gregory House, my best friend.

"I hate you."

He blinked.

"Why, Jimmy, we aren't projecting our-" Cough. "- Dissatisfaction at not being able to nail that new nurse in Radiology, now, are we?" I walked forward and took the empty seat next to his bed. I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees and clasping my palms.

"You scared me, Gr- House." He flinched at his first name.

"Yeah, whatever."

"No, really." I looked into his big powder blue eyes, then shied away as tears stung my eyes for the umpteenth time today. He sighed.

"C'mere, you big baby." He outstretched his thin arms, made thinner by the short sleeves of his hospital gown. I leaned over and wrapped my arms around him, squeezing once before letting go. He looked disgusted.

"Now, leave, so no one thinks we're gay. Cameron's already beginning to suspect that I harbor same-sex tendencies, and, well, you..."


End file.
